Neville Reads the Prophet
by Stephen Ratliff
Summary: A companion story to Honor a Hufflepuff, Neville reads the Daily Prophet, and occasionally lends a hand to Harry.
1. Chapter 1

Neville Reads the Prophet

a companion story to Honor a Hufflepuff

**Chapter One:**

Honor a Hufflepuff

Neville Longbottom was the heir of the House of Longbottom. In all likelihood, there was a seat on the Wizenmont in his future. At least that was what his Grandmother said. Neville knew better than to go against his grandmother. That was why for the last three years he had been one of the first to get to the Great Hall every morning.

It was an important part of his routine. Every morning he arrived at the Great Hall to find that a blueberry scone was at his customary seat, with a tall glass of orange juice. He didn't actually like orange juice, but it was what his Grandmother insisted that he have every morning, so he'd gotten used to it. Just as he sat down, the owl with the early morning delivery of the Daily Prophet would arrive, still warm from the presses.

On this particular morning, Neville had passed the Weasley's still standing guard over Cedric's body as it lay in state. It was perhaps the only time he'd ever seen Ron Weasley up when he got up. He hoped someone would relieve them soon, as he knew that Percy, Fred, George, and Ron had been standing guard since just after Midnight.

Neville unrolled the paper and took in the front page. Since this was the first morning since the end of the Triwizard Tournament, he knew this paper would shape how the wizarding world saw the events of the prior day. "Honor a Hufflepuff" the headline read. The big picture was of the Weasley's standing guard. It did not take Neville long to skim the article for the key points. Vordemort was back, and Cedric Diggory had been killed by him. Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter were co-winners of the Tri-wizard Tournament.

There was a small picture of Harry and Diggory. Harry seemed to be hiding in Cedric Diggory's shadow. A summary of the Tri-wizard Tournament started in the left column under that picture. Below the fold was an editorial titled "A Life Cut Short" about the folly of reviving the tournament by Barnabas Cuff and a statement titled "Honoring Cedric" from Harry.

Neville took a sip of his juice. That was going to throw some oil on to the fire. He couldn't recall ever seeing Harry put out an personal statement to the Prophet. There had to be an official statement from the ministry somewhere, but it wasn't on the front page. Neville turned to page two.

Page two of the Prophet generally had the weather report, localized to your location. Hogwarts was going to have a sunny day with clouds moving in mid-morning tomorrow and rain starting around three. It also was where Czarina Redeemer had her political buys and sells. Neville used to laugh at the column, but his grandmother considered it very insightful, even if it wasn't in depth.

Cornelius Fudge, sell. Neville expected that. Department of International Cooperation, hold. That holding pattern was lasting a lot longer than expected. Lord Malfoy, Lord Riverwald, buy. Unstable times in the Ministry, Neville concluded. Amos Diggory, hold. Neville could see that. It all depended on how Diggory recovered from his son's death. Harry Potter, buy, buy, buy. Neville wasn't sure he'd ever seen a C.R. recommendation in triplicate. He also was sure that he'd never seen Harry listed before.

Page Three was international news. The French Embassy had sent a message of condolences to the Diggorys. The Bulgarians had done likewise. That was expected. The Americans weren't. The Medes and the Persians were fighting again. Some wizard had stolen some sort of statue from a harbor somewhere. Perfectly normal.

Page Four was the continuation of the articles from the front page. Nothing much more significant, just a lot more details. There was an advertisement for Gladrags, as usual. Neville took the opportunity to swipe another blueberry scone.

Page Five was sports. Neville considered this section his favorite. As today would have normally been the day after the last Quidditch game of the season, he was hoping that they had not broken with tradition and left out the Hogwarts Prospects, which every year covered most of the Sports page. They hadn't. Oliver Wood was apparently a shoe in for making a professional team. The question appeared to be if it Puddlemere or Wimborne would get him.

There was an article on Cedric Diggory, who apparently had been watched for next year's draft by Chudley, Wimborne, and Tutshill. Nothing could save Chudley, in Neville's opinion. A new seeker might actually help Tutshill. Wimborne just needed new beaters. Too bad the Weasley Twins probably would go into business instead of Quidditch.

Below the fold was the usual standings. The points gaps were always interesting. Holyhead topping the standings this year. Appleby was just 10 points behind. Chudley was in tenth, he'd have to let Ron know that they'd passed Portree, which appeared have recently acquired a really bad luck streak. Neville checked the injury list. Both beaters, oh after loosing six chasers and a keeper in the last ten games, Portree had no chance this year. Chudley might have broken it's streak of fourteen years finishing last ... no, that wasn't going to happen.

Page Six was Business. Neville just skimmed it. The Longbottoms were mainly in farming, and didn't have many investments. He took a few sips of his orange juice, killing a little time on the page, like he'd gotten into the habit of while he was at home.

Page Seven was Fashion. Neville had never quite figured out how his Grandmother's hat was the height of fashion. Quite frankly, he didn't understand much of page seven, other than the fact that lime green hats were considered to be out.

Page Eight was the Farm Section, which Neville read eagerly. He was going to have to get some of that quadrotriticale for the west fields. There was an advertisement for Welsh Dragon Dung from his usual supplier. He would have to remember the expiration date of that deal. If he timed his orders right, he might be able to get a good three or four month's supply for his personal greenhouse.

Page Nine was the Legal Notices. The Ministry seemed to be very busy at the moment. Call for comments on the design of the new Quidditch stadium that was supposed to be built next year on the Isle of Anglesey. Neville thought the design was bad. There was a notice about hearings for the Couch Affair. That investigation was going to be a lot hotter soon. Then near the bottom of the page was the Ministry's official statement on the end of the Tri-wizard tournament. Tragic accidental death. No mention of Voldemort, nor the Minister having a man kissed. Harry Potter was the winner.

Neville went to close the paper so he could look at the back page, and as he did so, he noticed something. He opened it back up, then closed it again, before starting to laugh. The ministry notice was directly opposite the dragon dung advertizement.

Still laughing he scanned the back page for anything interesting, before folding the paper. He stood, tucked it under his arm, and headed out of the Great Hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Neville Reads the Prophet**

Part 2:

_With the Daily Prophet accounting for events recounted in Honor a Hufflepuff, scenes two through part of six, and overlapping with Honor a Hufflepuff part seven._

Neville was if nothing else, set in his routine. Sometimes, though, something upset it a bit. The previous night's events had made him a little bit late. He hadn't spoken at Cedric's wake, but he had stayed through the whole event and even helped a bit with some of the clean up. He knew of course that the house elves would clean up most any mess, but Harry had organized the event, and Harry believe that if you made a mess, you had to clean it up. Not that there was much to clean up. Harry just made sure that everything that had been borrowed was returned. Since one of those items was Neville's Mimbulus Mimbletonia, he had stayed with Harry and walked back to Gryffindor Tower with him.

That had been rather late, and butterbeer had always kept him up, unless it was warm. So he was about twenty minutes behind schedule. He wasn't the only one. His fellow early morning Prophet readers all seemed to be stumbling into the hall late. Malfoy was already there, but Malfoy hadn't attended the wake.

The paper was waiting for him, so he unrolled it. It was an extended edition, sixteen pages. That was rare. The headline read "Hogwarts Bells Toll for Cedric." The picture, though, was of the missing man formation, starting when Percy started to pull out of the formation. The side bar covered the formation, and referenced that there was a Seekers of Hogwarts article in Sports. The main article was about the procession of Cedric's coffin out of Hogwarts.

Below the fold was picture of the Diggory Special. Neville never could tell the difference between Hogsmeade and Goathland Station, but the presence of the Quidditch teams and the fact that it was dark gave him the clue as to which before the he read the caption. It referenced an article on page three. There was an article on the Minister's visit to Hogwarts titled, "Minister demands Potter Lie." It was a scathing indictment of Minister Fudge, and had the first quote that Neville had ever read of his own words, "I'm going for idiot, myself. Doesn't know his Latin, either." He would have to preserve this edition, like he had the previous day, though for additional reasons.

There was a bottom bar titled, "Additional Cedric Diggory Coverage" which apparently included stories of Cedric and the Testimony of Potter on pages three and four. Sports on page seven was apparently featuring Quidditch Teams honoring Cedric. The box ended with "Tomorrow: Cedric Arrives Home." Neville turned the page.

Page two was the weather report and Czarina Redeemer's Buys and Sells. The weather report said that was going to be cloudy with rain in the afternoon and continuing through morning. The entire bottom half was Madame Redeemer's column, with no corrections or advertisements, which was rather odd. Madame Redeemer was in fine form. Lord Riverwald, buy. Lord Malfoy, hold. Neville saw that as a shift away from the You-Know-Who's block. Department of International Cooperation, sell. That was a change. Percy Weasley (aka Weatherbee), buy. That appearance was unexpected. Amos Diggory, hold. Neville saw a pattern with that. So much depended on how Amos Diggory came out of his grief. Harry Potter, buy.

Then there was the rare part of Madame Redeemer's column. Her buys and sells were usually clues to her opinion and which way the ministry was going that she didn't explain. Today though, she had more overt comments, comments that began with a quote, "Little girl, you do not know what you're talking about." Mademe Redeemer turned his comment to Hermione around to a statement on him. Then she proceeded to take the Minister's comments about the tournament, some Neville had heard the previous day, others he'd said before, apart. She made him sound like a fool. Then she ended, "Minister, believe what you will, but that little girl, Miss Hermione Granger, did know what she was talking about, and you are an idiot as Neville Longbottom suggested. You have insulted the Honor of a Hufflepuff, and this Hufflepuff, has chosen to roar like a Gryffindor. I can only hope that you are swiftly relieved of your office. Cornelius Fudge, sell ... if you can find a buyer who is as much an idiot as he is, if not discard and deny that you ever bought."

Page Three had a section header the like of which Neville had never seen, "In Memory of Cedric." In a series of articles covering page three and four and credited only to "Daily Prophet Staff Reporters" there were stories from those that knew Cedric. All the Weasleys from Percy on down had stories that they shared. They were not the ones that he'd heard at the wake, so it wasn't like they were spied upon. There was a story from Luna about Cedric helping her hunt for the bander-snatch. The professors had chimed in with stories about him in class, including a surprisingly amusing story from Professor Snape. It appeared that the professor was aware of Cedric's pranking.

On page four was a picture of Cedric from his fifth year with the then first year Hufflepuffs and a story about him as a prefect helping them through their first year. In the lower left of that page was Cedric's Greatest Hits, a list of his favorite songs, as modified. Cedric's fellow prefects told stories about how he'd done his patrols. Then there was the one by-lined article, a personal remembrance by Penolope Clearwater, Daily Prophet Staff reporter.

Page Five resumed the normal sequence of the International News page. The International Confederation of Wizards was to convene on the subject of You-Know-Who's return. Another famous statue had apparently been stolen, this time from a hill in Bolivia.

Page Six was headed "Wizengamot Special Session" and began with the announcement that a special session had been called. Neville knew he had to pay close attention to this section. The Daily Prophet included it from the moment the Wizengamot session was called until the day after, and it always had something that his grandmother expected him to be up on.

There was the expected agenda. You-Know-Who's return topped the list, but wasn't the only item. The report on the investigation into the Department of International Cooperation was expected to be presented. Conduct of the search for Sirius Black had been added to the list, as well. On that subject, the Prophet was apparently trying to get a copy of the Black Trial transcript. New members of the Wizengamot were listed. Apparently Edwin Danegeld had stepped down in favor of his son Roderick. That was going to cause a scramble in the committees as the elder Danegeld had chaired the Justice Committe. The Campbell proxy had shifted again.

Page Seven was Sports this time, with a notation "Extended Hogwarts Coverage!" There was a Special to the Prophet column from Oliver Wood, reserve Keeper for Puddlemore, basically repeating the announcement from the prior night on the new sportsmanship award. Then there was the Seekers of Hogwarts articles, covering all the seekers that Cedric had flown against as well as him. Cho Chang, Cedric Diggory, Terrance Higgs, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, and Percy Weasley. Neville thought that the fact that the alphabetizing put Cho and Cedric together was appropriate.

Neville read each of the articles, enjoying for once a large number of articles in a subject that he was close to. He nearly laughed out loud when he finished the article about Percy, also know as the seeker who got away. He turned the page for the rest of sports. Quidditch Teams honor Cedric was the headline on that page, with a picture taken from behind the Holyhead and Appleby teams as they floated above Goathland Station watching the Diggroy Special pass. The standings and results were in a left hand column. Holyhead and Appleby were tied.

The Business section began on page 9, and for once, it began with an article that Neville was actually interested in. Apparently the investor from Wiltshire, who had bought the Pride of Portree Quiditch team had purchased via intimidation. The Department of Magical Law enforcement had announced an investigation, into the unidentified senior partner . The Daily Prophet was also investigating, and had somehow obtained a document indicating that the new owners of the Pride of Portree were Lucky Masters, Inc of Goatacre, Wiltshire.

It seemed that a change in tax policy was being credited as causing a drop in sales in Diagon Ally. An unidentified member of the Wizengamot Finance Committee said that it wasn't so, but Daily Prophet had apparently gotten some expert opinion that Neville didn't entirely understand. Transportation costs from the Continent were apparently going up to. He'd have to talk to his Uncle Algie about that. He always seemed to be able to explain that section better.

Page ten was mostly filled with advertisements. Neville wasn't interested in them, and thought that the one from Madam Mulkins was hideous. He went straight to the top of the Fashion page.

The Weasley brothers appeared to be the focus of the fashion world today, on page eleven. He was willing to bet that it was page that not a single person in Hogwarts who would have ever put money down on them appearing in fashion. It appeared that their clothes when they stood guard were being promoted as the latest in formal wear.

Neville turned the page to discover the Gladrags advertisement, which filled the entire page. He looked up as Harry arrived. Usually, Harry was earlier than this. "Can I borrow your Prophet, when you're done, Neville?" Harry asked.

Neville looked over at the next page, the beginning of the Farm Section, as he replied, "Certainly." It looked like there was going a mandrake blight in Yorkshire. He looked up to discover that Ron had arrived. Someday he'd learn how to swallow before talking. "You're going to love page two. Madame Redeemer is in fine form today. Ron, Chuddley forfeited yesterday, lack of a seeker."

Neville turned the page again. Page fourteen was headed, "Wizard Rail presents these pictures of the Diggory special." There was also a schedule for trains to the Diggory Funeral in three days.

"Doesn't effect the standings," Ron responded cheerfully, piling his plate full of sausage. "What happened to Portree?" Neville couldn't understand how Ron could eat so much for breakfast.

"They didn't score, at all," Neville replied, before taking another sip of his juice. "They just put a seventh chaser on the disabled list. MacGregor had to have his left arm reattached." Neville loved trains, though he never would tell his grandmother that. His grandmother had not been an ally of Wizard Rail when she was on the Transportation Committee, and he had been afraid to tell her how much he enjoyed traveling by train.

Page Fifteen was legal notices, and with the upcoming Wizengamot session, there were several of interest. Neville skimmed them, noting a few notices of alliances, mostly on the traditional dark side of things. He tried to organize them in his head, but it really wasn't interesting to him. He kept drifting to the conversation going on around him. Since it was on some sort of ritual tables, it wasn't engrossing either.

"Neville, what was the Harpies game score?" Ginny asked. Neville found Ginny fun, and she'd been a great date to the Yule Ball. He wouldn't mind another date with her. Of course, he could have done without her older brothers, which is why he hadn't asked for another.

"Lost, ten twenty to ten thirty," Neville replied. "They're now tied for first. The Captains called the game when the Diggory Special was due to pass."

"Can't fault them for that," Ginny said. Neville caught her glance at Harry. He'd heard Hermione tell Ginny to try to see Harry as more of a friend than potential boyfriend. It was obvious to Neville that it was a work in progress. "Don't look now, Harry, but it looks like Minister Fudge is back."

"And Hermione's gone," Harry said. Neville knew he wanted advice. "You think we can ignore him?"

Neville considered it for a moment. It didn't seem wise. "Best not to this time," Neville said. "I'll help. He's got a reporter in tow."

"Oh Merlin," Harry moaned. Rita Skeeter was following Fudge. Neville had gotten chapter and verse on Harry's extreme dislike for the Daily Prophet reporter. He'd told Harry after yesterday's encounter, he better put on a good face and use her.

Neville turned to the back page, and folded it so that the bumbling ministry headline was visible. It didn't take long for the minister to make his way over to the table.

Fudge stood across the table from Harry, right where Hermione usually sat. "Harry, might I have a word with you?"

Harry looked over at Neville. He seemed to be seeking a signal that Neville was ready, so Neville tilted his head a bit and smiled. Neville intended to make his Grandmother proud of him, and this was an opportunity for him to show that he'd been listening to her. He was ready. "Minister, after yesterday, I would think you would have realize that private talks from the Minister of Magic on the ill advised nature of my activities, as you define them, would be unlikely," Harry said.

"Now Harry, why would I degrade your honors for a fellow Triwizard Champion?" Minister Fudge asked. In Neville's opinion, the minister was pouring it on way too thickly."The Ministry has always believed the testimony of its future Lords of the Wizengamot."

"That's news to me," Harry shot back. Neville had to admire snappy reply. "Especially given the notice in the Prophet yesterday, and your visit. Not to mention the testimony I gave last year, you might recall it, when you intended to have my godfather, who never got a trial, kissed on sight." The follow up wasn't bad either, as it had the Minister sputtering. "Oh, Neville, Lord of the Wizengamot?"

As an scion of an ancient line, Neville was well aware of this"You got a life peerage after you defeated You-Know-Who, effective when you are declared an adult," Neville replied. "File it under one of those things they forgot to tell you." He knew there was a lot that Harry didn't know.

"They've got to stop doing that, Neville," Harry replied. Neville had to agree. "When is the next meeting?"

"Special session Friday, nine o'clock, the day after Cedric's buried," Neville replied. "Planning on being there?"

"Certainly, now that I know I'm a member," Harry said. Neville was just loving seeing Fudge's reaction. It appeared that he was getting a bit hot under the collar. "Minister, that color isn't good on you."

"Well, yes, but, you can't attend, it will be a closed session," Fudge said. "Only declared adult members may attend." Neville had an urge to call him on that. No way would that session be closed.

Neville barely noticed in time that Harry was looking at Ron. Ron seemed to have something he wanted to say to Fudge. Ron had been still recovering from his overnight vigil, so he'd missed the previous day's encounter with Fudge. Neville was quite aware that Ron was looking to make the minister look like a fool. Apparently Fudge didn't think that Mr. Weasley's department was necessary, and that Ron's father was a bumbling idiot. "Oh, go ahead Ron," Harry ordered.

"Minister, you and two other members of the Wizengamot have already declared Harry to be an adult by serving as a judge in the tournament," Ron replied. He'd managed to swallow before speaking for once. Miracle that, in Neville's opinion. "How did Hermione site it, ah," Ron shifted his voice to match hers, "60 Wizengamot Reports 393, in re: Fallon; judgement of qualifications identical to qualifications to serve is a declaration to of qualifications to serve. " Ron dropped his barely passable imitation. "Too bad it doesn't carry over to the muggle world, Harry."

"Story of my life, Ron," Harry replied. "Do make certain I don't have problems with entry, Minister." Neville felt the room suddenly get colder as Harry glared at Fudge.

"Certainly, Harry. Is there anything that the Ministry can help with your further honoring of the Diggory boy?" It was obvious to Neville that Fudge wasn't succeeding at ignoring Harry's tone.

"Minister, you are a day late for providing any help," Harry replied. "Fortunately, others at the Ministry were not such sticks in the mud. Rita, you won't need to exaggerate this. Hufflepuff House had some amazing connections that were able to smooth the way. Both Madame Bones and of course Mister Scott of Wizard Rail were very helpful in arranging last night's Diggory Special." Neville saw a puzzled expression pass across Fudge's face. "You are aware of the Diggory Special?" Neville knew that Fudge had no clue.

"Harry, if Lucius Malfoy didn't tell him, Fudge wouldn't be aware that he was wearing clothes," Neville interrupted. He looked right at Harry, acting as if Fudge wasn't there. "He most certainly doesn't read all of the Prophet. Maybe the front page, but I doubt he's gotten to today's edition. I'm not finished with the whole thing, and I started when it was hot of the presses." He just had the back page editorials to read, though.

"My apologies, Minister, I was unaware that your office required such a long lead time for information, much less your understandable delay for attending the many events to which the Minister is invited," Harry said, his tone implying that it wasn't understandable at all. "Most unfortunately, all my events are done. Perhaps you can talk to the Headmaster about the leaving feast?"

"I shall ask, Harry," Fudge replied, before heading towards the head table.

"Miss Skeeter, a word?" Harry called out before the reporter could follow.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Rita asked, her lime green quill at the ready.

"May I suggest a few words for your article on Fudge's visit?" Harry said, smiling. "Such as late, uninformed, and overly familiar? It might prevent some debugging by Prophet management." Neville wondered a bit about that term, debugging. It seemed out of place. He shrugged it off as a muggle thing.

"Mr. Potter, you can trust that those very words will be used," Rita replied, hurrying off to catch up with the minister.

"Harry, I've seen that expression before, usually on the twins before a prank went off, what do you have going on?" Ron asked, laying his fork down on his empty plate.

"Oh, thanks to Hermione, Rita is going to be a lot better behaved from now on," Harry replied. "Well, Hermione's discovery, plus the fact that it turns to that Cuff is an old friend of the Potter family. He might have even had his life saved when he was a young reporter by a certain person who has been known as Prongs. It's amazing what one finds out when you finally get control of your mail wards. Oh, Ginny, sorry about not replying. I had no idea about how they'd set up my mail wards, though now that I know the volume of mail I get, I'm glad I'm under them."

Neville had been a bit surprised that Mr. Cuff had stopped to chat with Harry after the second task. He'd also been unaware that Harry had connected the old man with the Editor of the Prophet. Of course, Neville was wondering about a lot of things after the most recent encounter with Fudge.

"That's okay, Harry, it's not your fault," Ginny responded. Neville was sure the smile was just for Harry. "I want to know when Ron started reading Wizengamot Reports, though." Neville nodded. That had been one thing he'd wondered too.

"Well, Hermione brought it up a couple times, but Fallon played for the Cannons," Ron said, as if that was enough to explain it. Neville actually gave more credit to the former than the latter. He looked at the back page again. Nothing he didn't already know.

"Neville, we've got to get together before tonight to talk about the Wizengamot," Harry said.

That, Neville had expected. "I'll make time, and Fudge was wrong, it's an open session, so I'll be there with my Grandmother," Neville said, closing the paper. "Still want this next?"

Harry took the Daily Prophet from Neville. "Looks like I'm in for a long read, today."

"Read the Quidditch scores first," Neville advised. "It's what everyone asks about. And no, Seamus, Kenmare did not win against Falmouth. Their keeper is rubbish, and their seeker sees leprechaun gold instead of the snitch. You owe me a sickle."

Seamus tossed the sickle to Neville as Harry settled down to read the Prophet, occasionally looking at the head table, where Fudge didn't seem to be getting anywhere with Dumbledore, either.

...

_Note:_

_Part Three is currently being written. It will cover events from part six through the end of Honor a Hufflepuff, and set up for Honor a Hufflepuff's sequel, Honor to Serve._


	3. Chapter 3

Neville Reads the Prophet 3

A companion to _Honor a Hufflepuff_

Comprising events happing in parts eight and nine in _Honor a Hufflepuff_.

...

Neville was actually ahead of schedule on the morning that the Hogwarts Express left for London. The house elves were up to the task though, and despite the early hour, his orange juice was waiting. The Daily Prophet's distribution owls were also aware that if they weren't early enough, they'd be chasing down the Hogwarts Express to deliver the paper. So it might have been as if Neville hadn't been early, for all the effect it had on his routine. There was one benefit to the early arrival ... he'd be able to finish the paper before his Quidditch mad dorm mates arrived.

As usual for the last few days, the front page had Neville's attention from the moment he unrolled it. "Dumbledore Berates Minister" it practically screamed over the article on the Leaving Feast. Unusually, it looked like Minister Fudge was prepared with a response. "Fudge says Chief Warlock Deranged." The slant of the article went against Fudge though. It was obvious that the Prophet's editor had read the tea leaves, and knew that Fudge wasn't going to be minister much longer.

Below the fold was an article about a special investigation by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement into 'unspecified possible law breaking in the Quidditch Leagues.' There apparently was a rumor that it involved Portree somehow. Neville didn't doubt it, given the way the team had dropped in the standings under it's new owner.

There was also an article on the upcoming burial of Cedric Diggory. Apparently Wizard Rail was going to have a special train schedule to allow as many as possible to take the train there and back. Neville figured that it would be a very popular decision, especially among those who hadn't yet got their license, or had children. The schedule was on page nine. Neville noted it, as he'd probably need to use it.

Neville turned the page, taking a small sip of his juice. The weather report covered from Hogwarts to London today. It was going to be a rainy journey, but it was supposed to clear by Cedric's burial on Friday.

Czarina Redeemer's Buys and Sells was an interesting mix. Amos Diggory was a buy for the first time. Lord Riverwald, buy again. Puddlemore United, buy ... that was totally unexpected, a Quidditch team in the political column. Minister Fudge, sell. Lord Malfoy, sell. That was a complete reversal for Draco's father. Augusta Longbottom, Nicanor Abbot, buy. Paired together, Neville knew that the reason had to be the same that both his grandmother and Hannah Abbot's Great Uncle would be listed. He figured the reason had to be hidden elsewhere in the paper.

Over on the other side was international news. The new American Secretary of Magic, a guy named DeConcini, Neville thought that sounded more Italian than American, was visiting France. Amos Diggory had invited him to the funeral. That was entirely unexpected. The French Minister had already been invited. The statue stolen from the American harbor had just turned up in Russia, in the place of some calling mother statue.

The Wizengamot Session preview coverage on page 4 began with an announcement of new committee chairs. With the elder Danegeld having retired, Neville expected that. Elphias Doge had taken over the Justice Committee, moving over from Foreign Relations. Not an unexpected move, Neville judged. Tiberious Ogden was replacing Crouch on Transportation ... Neville figured that Wizard Rail would love that change. Ogden was a former rail man.

On Education Committee, Neville's grandmother was the new chair, beating out Malfoy for it. Neville smiled. Since Harry had invited him to share the compartment with the Trio, he knew that Malfoy would stop by. It was worth lots of thought. Nicanor Abbot was taking over Foreign Relations. He'd have to send his congratulations via Hannah. It might allow him to say something to her without stuttering.

Then there was the new members, in order of seniority. The new Campbell proxy retained the seniority of the person they were proxy for, so Sapphire "Spark" Eagleton was now the forty-eighth most senior member. Eagleton would keep all of the prior proxy's committee assignments, which would be interesting, since it her as the second rank member on the Finance Committee. Since the Minister was the traditional head of that committee, Neville really wanted to make sure he found some time to watch those meetings. He had a feeling that Eagleton would live up to her nickname.

Harry was next in seniority, with his seniority date going to the date his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Neville was sure that the fact that Harry Potter was going to be sworn into the Wizengamot would make the opening day crowd quite sizable. It was a good thing that as heir to the Longbottom seat, Neville could score a seat on the chamber's floor.

The fiftieth seat was Roderick Danegeld's. He was succeeding his retiring father, but that didn't put him at anywhere near Neville's age, or even the age of his parents. There was a rumor that Neville's grand had turned down Roderick's courting. That rumor's dismissal by his grandmother was why Neville was greatly surprised that Roderick was going to be serving on the Education Committee. Rumor was that Roderick Danegeld had by-blows with at least sixteen pureblood women.

The fifth-first seat was whoever replaced the Crouches. No heir had been proclaimed, despite the long time that Bartemius Crouch had no eligible male descendants. As such, there were several options for it to be filled. It would be an item on the agenda. The Prophet figured that the odds were on the Wizengamot choosing a new family to hold the seat, though it was possible that a distant cousin might make an acceptable claim.

This of course resulted in all sorts of speculation on the Prophet's part as to the family. The Diggroys were of course mentioned, as was the Mulkin family. As usual, the popular Quidditch players got some mention, though only one Quidditch player had ever brought his family into the Wizengamot. In that case, Neville was more inclined to believe that there were other qualifications that got the Mockridge family into the Chamber, like for instance the fact that Warrington Mockridge had also saved the King, back in the sixteen hundreds.

Neville paused from his reading and looked up at the Great Hall's ceiling. He missed the sun coming over the horizon every morning during the summer. Hannah was just arriving. As usual the blond hadn't quite closed her robes, highlighting just how much she'd grown. She yawned and stretched. Neville couldn't return to reading until she sat down, facing away from him.

He looked down to discover that he'd turned over to the Sports page. Yesterday had been an off day for Quidditch, so there were no scores to report. That meant that there would be two types of articles, signings and previews. When it came to signings, Neville was willing to bet that Ron Weasley would be trying to get a few extra copies of the Prophet. After all, it wasn't every day that your older brother got signed with Puddlemore United as the reserve seeker. There was a very nice picture of Percy on a familiar broom.

There was some speculation as to which teams were going to play in this summer's Hogwarts Classic. Dumbledore generally let Professor McGonagall chose one of the teams, and it had gotten out that the Transfiguration professor was a bit upset at her usual choice, Pride of Portree's record. No one had ever quite figured out Dumbledore's system for choosing the other team. The annual fund-raising game was generally one of the best games of the season, even a couple years ago when it had been Chudley against Portree. That game had actually been Chudley's last win, 1000 to 750, as Ron liked to remind everyone.

Neville looked up, and spotted the aforementioned Weasley. It was much too early for Ron to be there, but he was. "Hey, Neville, can I have your copy of the Prophet when you're done?"

"Percy's picture?" Neville asked. Ron nodded. "As soon as I'm done, you'll have it. Is that Harry's broom?"

"Yeah, Harry insisted," Ron said, picking up a piece of toast and a cup of pumpkin juice. "Wood had to get him to accept Harry's offer. 'Course he won't have it for the games unless he buys one himself."

Neville turned the page and started to read Business. It really was one of the most boring sections of the paper to him. The purchase of Portree was going to be going before the Law Wizards. Some one in some place Neville had never heard of called Dubai was building a ski slope, which he had no idea what that was, either.

Page Seven was fashion, and it seemed to be mostly on appropriate attire for a funeral. As far as Neville could tell, it was black, black, and more black. He could not care less about the length of veil girls were supposed to wear.

Neville turned the page to the Farm section, looking up. Ron had left. Probably to finish packing. The Weasley's had just in time completion down to an art form. No, there he was. It looked like Ron was trying to get as many copies of the Prophet as he could.

Neville looked back at the paper. Ever since he first read the Prophet, he'd always felt that the page was one of the most neglected sections. As a Longbottom, he knew exactly how important it actually was. Today it really was neglected. There was one small article on artichoke irrigating, and the rest was advertisement. Neville made a note that the deal on dragon dung had actually gotten better, especially in smaller qualitites.

Neville looked up before he started on the legal notices. Harry had just entered the Great Hall. He was carrying the book Neville had lent him on Wizengamot Protocol. "Morning Harry."

"Morning Neville," Harry said, as he took a seat across from Neville. A glass of orange juice appeared, and Harry thumbed his way to a page in the first quarter of the book. "Do you really think I can do this Wizengamot thing?"

"Harry, did you actually ever consider not claiming the seat?" Neville asked.

"No," Harry said. "But it's going to be lots of work to do it right."

"We'll be there to help." Hermione had just arrived, unencumbered by a book, as this was the one day where it was impractical for her.

"And you will do it right," Neville said. "Certainly you'll be better than the last Campbell proxy. Right bloody arsehole, that man."

"Neville!"

"What? I guess you haven't read about him, though I thought you might have, Hermione. I heard his arrest even got into the muggle papers. Killed sixteen teenage boys, three of them muggles, in Sunderland, and thought that his position as proxy would protect him." Neville looked back down at his paper. His eyes fell on the small personal, "NL - Greatest thanks, OC" He smiled, and wondered if he should invite the second year to join them in the compartment on the Express.

"Hey, Neville, Campbell says I should ask you why she wants to keep her copy of the Prophet today," Ron said, returning back to the Gryffindor table, after going down the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables seeking extra copies. Nothing would bring Ron to ask for anything from the Sylterins, it seemed. It looked like he'd managed about five copies, to Neville's eye. Neville frowned as he tossed a sickle to Harry, before turning the page.

The back page of the Prophet was one of two things, usually. A big advertisement, the highest priced space available, or the editorials. Today, it was the editorials. Ludo Bagman was getting pasted on his betting, and the handling of the Tri-wizard tournament. One bludger to many was one of the kinder comments made on the page though. Minister Fudge was found to be unworthy to address a gathering of tea cups. There was a rather mild sally at Dumbledore, as knowing when to jump on the band wagon, even if he had to run a bit to catch up. Malfoy was really being pasted, to the point where they were not even bothering to spell his first name correctly.

Neville smiled, and handed the paper over to Ron. "So, Harry, shall we head down to the Express early to get better seats?"


	4. Saturday July First Edition

**Neville Reads the Prophet 4**

_Covering the events of Honor to Serve Part 4_

Neville began his second day back from school early. He'd been in the heir's gallery when Malfoy, Macnair, and Goyle had been placed on trial by the Royals, and Malfoy's testimony had produced nightmares that would not end.

The sun had only lent a hint of red to the edge of the eastern horizon when Neville took his seat in the breakfast nook. A glass of orange juice and the Prophet waited for him. He took a single sip of juice, then turned to the Longbottom's house elf. "If you please, I think some scones, blueberry, will be enough for this morning, Lokie."

It was Saturday, and the Saturday Prophet tended to be more light than most days. Neville knew that anyone expecting that today was going to be disappointed. The headline on the front page said that clearly. The scones appeared just as he opened the paper. "Thank you Lokie." He picked up a scone and began to nibble on it as he read. He had to be careful about how many of those he ate. Nibbling on things as he read had been why he'd been so chubby at the start of his first year.

"Treason! Royals Sentence Death Eaters." The picture was of the Tower Green, with a gallows ready. Three nooses stood waiting. Neville forced himself to read the accounting of Lucius Malfoy's deeds. He forced himself to read about the killing, the torture, even the desecration of graves done at Malfoy's orders. He'd been there, among the record crowd in the galleries, but it was still important to read the whole article. Only after he did, did he look below the fold.

Below the fold was the stories on Waldon Macnair and Gregory Goyle V. Goyle had actually been found not guilty on one charge. Somehow he'd avoided using unforgivable curses, but he wasn't exactly sure how he'd done that. The corner box notified Neville that there would be no Fashion or Farm section, and that there would be additional Wizengamot trial coverage on pages eight and nine.

Neville turned the page, briefly checking out the weather report, rain all day. That felt almost appropriate to him. Then he looked at Czarina Redeemer's Buys and Sells. Amos Diggory, buy. Tom Marvolo Riddle, sell. That was a bold entry. Neville was surprised that it got past the editors. Draco Malfoy, buy. The Royal Family, buy. Minister Fudge, sell. Amelia Bones, hold. Pius Thicknesse, buy. Harry Potter, buy.

On the International News page opposite, it seemed there was some concern about the Death Eaters being back in Britain. A column from one of the Daily Prophet's regular writers complained about Secretary DeConcini's comments indicating that America stood ready to assist. Neville thought the columnist was way off base. Some one had apparently replaced an obelisk in some district named Columbia with the statue from the hill in Bolivia. The harbor statue had been returned.

The forth page of the Prophet was a continuation from the Front page, along with an advertisement for a new book titled Guilty Men. There was also an article about the Royals, speculating as to which ones had sat in judgement, as by tradition, their hoods had remained up during the whole thing. Neville sipped his orange juice. He figured their claim that the Duke of York wasn't one of the three was wrong.

Neville looked over to page five and Sports. It was announced that the Pride of Portree was now one hundred percent owned by the Royal Family, with the lead owner being the Duke of Rothesay. Neville had no idea which royal that was. He'd have to ask Harry or Hermione on Monday. Muggle raised students always seemed to know more about the Royal Family than his pureblood relatives did.

There was an article about the various curses that Lucius had used on his team, and speculations as to why he did so. Neville had only one theory, Malfoy was crazy. Of course the more informed, and Neville used the term very lightly, members of the press said it was part of some massive betting scheme. Neville would believe that when Gringotts reported the size of the Malfoy and other soon to be deceased Death Eater's accounts.

There had been no Quidditch matches on Friday, but today there were going to be three. Chudley was going to be playing Appleby. That was going to be a slaughter, especially given the Arrow's well oiled Chasers and the fact that Chudley had a new Keeper in his first game, following an off field injury. Wigtown was playing Holyhead. Hannah had tickets, and had invited him to accompany her. Neville figured it would be a good idea not to admit to Hannah that there was a poster of Holyhead's Seeker in his bedroom. The last game of the day was going to be Ballycastle against Falmouth. Neville was rooting futilely for Ballycastle in that game. Falmouth's Beaters were living up to their motto lately, even when they won.

Page Six was a Royal Proclamation, the official announcement of the death sentences of Lucius Malfoy, Waldon Macnair and Gregory Goyle V. Neville had never read such a sentence before. He noticed that the there was an application for witnesses, but the actual time was not specified, nor was where they were being held.

Page Seven was the Business section. When the Wizengamot had ended it's closed trial session, the overseas exchanges had went into free fall. The Galleon had dropped to the lowest amount to the pound that Neville had ever seen. It seemed that the Goblins had released a list of holdings by the doomed three Death Eaters to the Royals, and part of it had gotten out. The international chain Gambol & Japes was apparently entirely owned by the three Death Eaters.

Neville figured that he had no need to buy any joke items anytime soon. If he needed something, he could always ask Fred and George Weasley to make it up for him. They did better work than Gambol & Japes anyway.

Neville tried to turn to page eight, but couldn't. After a couple tries to split the sheets, he noticed the child protect notice. He was glad that Harry had already filed his staff intern form. Neville would not have to ask his Gran to do the charm today. "Majorus!" he said, tapping his wand on the small box in the lower left of page seven. The page turned, opening to show him pages eight and nine.

Page Eight was child protected along with page nine and titled "The Crimes of Lucius Malfoy," and the lead article was by Rita Skeeter. Neville had felt sorry for previous victims of Skeeter, there was no other reporter so skilled in the art of twisting facts, but he didn't feel sorry for the victim of this article. He'd sat through Malfoy's confession, and what Skeeter had revealed wasn't nearly as bad. Not that it still wasn't bad.

Skeeter had somehow managed to get details on how Lucius Malfoy had treated his captive muggle girls. The details and the description of their scarred gravid bodies, as well as the grave yard of those that hadn't survived to be rescued from Malfoy Manor, made Neville put down his blueberry scone, leaving the rest of it untouched. The fact that Malfoy had been the world's largest suppler of the banned potions ingredient, an innocent's blood, was merely detail on the parchment.

Neville felt sick by the time he finished the page.

The top of page Nine had the crimes of Gregory Goyle V. Compared to Malfoy, he was a petty criminal. Petty, a term that really shouldn't be applied to rape and murder. There was only a single picture of Goyle. The bottom of the page, though, was a story about one of the most loathsome Death Eater attacks in the year that Voldermort was defeated by Harry Potter's mother. Neville had credited Lily Evans since his second year for the defeat that Halloween. Harry had made a good case.

The attack had occurred in a muggle place called a department store. Neville wasn't sure what that was, as there was no equivalent in the wizarding world, but the picture of the aftermath showed what looked to him to be shelves full of baby stuff. Not that Neville had a lot of experience with baby stuff. Most of his encounters with it were old well worn pictures of himself with his parents. There was a list of victims. One of the names caught his eye. Dahlia Dursley, wasn't that the last name of the muggles that Harry lived with?

The two secured pages ruined Neville's appetite. He left his scones on the table and stood up, turning the page to the back of the Prophet. As he walked away, he looked at the last page briefly. An advertisement for dragon dung and a bunch of editorials of people who obviously hadn't sat through the trials. The advertisement summed up the page, summed up the way Neville felt the world was going.

Neville tossed the paper on the table, and strode out of the room. He headed for the only place where that dragon dung could actually do some good. Perhaps an hour or so in his greenhouse would allow him to get his appetite back.


	5. Sunday July Second Edition

_**Author's Note:**_

_I'm playing a bit of catch up with Neville, as the current chapter in progress of _Honor to Serve_ is on the morning of July 5th._

* * *

><p><strong>Neville Reads the Prophet 5<strong>

_Covering events to Chapter 5 of Honor to Serve, being the edition of Sunday July 2nd._

It was still pouring down rain at the Longbottom Estates in Lincolnshire. Neville had hoped to sleep in on the first Sunday of his summer vacation. After all, he'd be getting up early to help Harry tomorrow. That intention had quickly died when his gran had summoned him out of bed, waking him up in the middle of a very good dream about Hannah Abbot. In protest, Neville had decided to come to breakfast in just his boxers. He knew it annoyed his gran, but she had given up saying anything to him on that.

As Neville took his seat and picked up the Daily Prophet, he ordered, "If you please, I think some scones, raspberry, will be enough for this morning, Lokie." The Logbottom house elf nodded, before popping away to get the scones and Neville's usual glass of orange juice.

Neville unrolled the paper, and read the headline. "Cannons Shatter Arrows: First Chudley Victory Vs Number One Team in Decade." It was so nice to have a headline that wasn't about dark lords or death, for a change. Neville was pretty sure that Ron would be framing this front page. 1520 to 120. Ouch. He'd thought that the Cannons were heading for a massive loss, but it seemed that the opposite had happened while he was at the Holyhead Wigtown game. Of course he couldn't recall the score of that game. He'd been a bit busy, especially towards the end, snogging Hannah.

While he wasn't as into Quidditch compared to some of his dorm mates, he eagerly followed the scores and standings. Of his dorm mates, Ron was no doubt the most Quidditch obsessed of them, and this game would have him crowing, as nothing could make him think until after the very last game that his team couldn't win the season. Every one of his dorm mates rooted for a different team. All of them liked the witches of the Holyhead Harpies, what boy didn't have one of those posters? However, none of them had them as their favorite, which was shame since before this game they'd been tied for first.

Neville's team was the Appleby Arrows, so he was expecting a gloating letter from Ron. It was tradition among every one of them save Harry to do so in the summer. Harry's team was Puddlemere, which had done okay, but Harry apparently didn't get the Prophet most summers. Dean favored the Wimborne Wasps, currently in third place. Seamus was of course for the Kenmore Kestrals. Since none of those had played today, Neville would be the only one receiving a letter.

Below the fold was more coverage of the Three Wizengamot Death Eaters. There was the announcement that the Queen had ordered that their heads be left on display for the rest of the summer, after they were executed at dawn on Monday. More had come up regarding the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. An emaciated three year old mute girl had been discovered, barely alive, and taken to Saint Mungo's. Then there was the discovery of "muggle body parts" at Waldon Macnair's London residence. Finally there was a picture of Neville's classmate, Gregory Goyle and a reference to a story on page four.

Neville opened the Prophet, spreading it out on the table before him. As he did so, he caught his gran's disapproving expression, as she entered the dinning room. She said nothing about him only being dressed in his boxers, though. Neville wondered how she'd react if he had been sleeping nude like Seamus did. With an evil grin, he thought he might try it next time he wanted to sleep in.

According to the weather report, the rain was due to end in just a few hours, but Tuesday and early Wednesday were going to be a deluge. Neville would have to make sure that his elves knew that Monday was probably the best day to plant. He wanted to make sure that his new everlasting biting rose bushes were planted at the best possible time.

The lower half of page two was as usual Czarina Redeemer's Buys and Sells couple with an advertizement for Zonko's, a school's out clearance sale. It looked like Redeemer had gotten the editor to spring for a little extra, as instead of the previous listing with an up or down arrow, there now was a small picture inside the appropriate arrow.

Amos Diggory, buy. That was a constant from the last time. Draco Malfoy, hold. It looked like Redeemer was reconsidering her earlier buy on Draco, probably due to the fact that he'd be the next to youngest member of the Wizengamot when he was sworn in, and without Harry's fame to offset it. Amelia Bones, buy. Apparently Redeemer wasn't considering Director Bones's statement on serving as minister. Harry Potter, buy. Neville figured that Harry's star was still on the rise, and would be for sometime, if Neville had anything to do with it. Minister Fudge, sell. Was Fudge ever going to be a buy again? Pius Thickness, hold. Neville figured that Thickness was going to be the new head of the Dark faction, now that Lucius Malfoy was due to be executed, and the hold was more on the fate of the faction than Thickness. Percy Weasley, buy. Neville couldn't figure out why Percy was appearing the list.

Neville looked over to page three, where the International section began with an article indicating that it had been discovered that Lucius Malfoy had been bribing the prior Secretary of Magic in the United States, which was why DeConcini, had replaced Secretary Lester Maddox, as the latter had resigned while under investigation. Confirmation was without objection, as usual. Neville wondered what they meant by confirmation.

The obelisk from the District called Columbia had apparently reappeared in Pisa, replacing some tower. The Pisans were complaining about the replacement not leaning. Neville noticed that his gran was leaning over a book. Perhaps it was time to remind her about having her eyes checked.

Neville turned the page. Wizengamot Coverage included several articles on the prior week. The Sunday Prophet often had a few of those, for those who only got the Prophet on Sunday. The article summarizing the crimes of the Wizengamot Death Eaters was every bit as disturbing as it had been the previous day.

The new article was on Gregory Goyle, a year mate of Neville's from Slytherin. Neville didn't really know Greg. To Neville he was part of Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's muscle. Muscle that way too often ended up blocking him as he attempted to flee Malfoy. Neville wasn't going to flee Malfoy or anyone else this year. Harry had taught him that.

Goyle, though, was in a pinch. Though he was now the holder of a Wizengamot Seat, he wasn't of age, nor had he received dispensation from the crown to take the seat early like Malfoy. Apparently Goyle had shown up at the Leaky Cauldron late Saturday fleeing relatives and former friends of his father trying to get them to be his proxy. Several distinguished purebloods were now in jail for attempting to curse him.

"Gran, have you read the article about Goyle?" Neville asked, looking up at his grandmother.

"Not yet, Neville. Should I?"

"Yes, something has to be done," Neville said, looking back at the picture of Goyle who appeared to be shrinking away from the camera. "Do you still have a friend at Court?"

"I do. You can leave this in my hands."

"Thank you, Gran," Neville said, looking over to page 5, Sports.

Neville knew that the Chuddy Appleby game was going to be the game that he and Ron were going to discuss over and over again, for years probably. 1520 to 120 ... the Appleby side, number one going into the game, had completely fallen apart. Noted columnist, Eugene Ryan-Rush, whose Sunday Quidditch column Neville had been following since he learned to read, dissected the loss. The Canon beaters had been brutal. Unlike in school quidditch, when you had a player injured they could not be immediately replaced. You played a man down for the next three hours, unless that player returned. It used to be for the rest of the game, but that had been changed with quite a bit of controversy just two years before.

The Arrows had been three men down by the end of the third hour, one chaser, one seeker, and one beater. Though they never got further down, they never really recovered either, even when they got a full side in again. To add insult to injury, the Cannon's seeker had literally pulled the snitch out of the Appleby's reserve seeker's hair.

Neville had been at the Holyhead Wigtown game, and only now discovered that Holyhead had actually won, 480 to 140. He remembered the start of the game, and bits and pieces, but he'd been a little distracted by Hannah. He was going to another game today, Holyhead was playing Puddlemere, in a rare two game weekend for Holyhead. Hannah's family had season tickets for the family box. She'd told him that they'd likely be the only ones using it this time, as her father had to prepare for the Wizengamot session. Hopefully his gran wouldn't realize that. For a moment he thought about his snogging her during and after the game, before remembering that being in just his boxers, his gran might ...

Best not to think about it, and instead he returned his attention to the article. Holyhead was now in sole possession of the league lead, 360 points ahead of Appleby. At least his team was still up there. He was willing to bet that Ron's next letter was going to say that his team was charging fast. They'd moved from eleventh to sixth with their epic game.

Neville wasn't much interested in the Falmouth Ballycastle game. Falmouth had beaten Ballycastle 720 to 590, a game decided by the snitch, which Neville knew was actually a lot rarer than those just looking at the rules would suspect. Ninety-two percent of the games were won by more than 150 points, at the professional level. Falmouth games seemed to always be measured more in the injury list than the points. How they held fourth, Neville could never quite understand.

There was the Sunday Quidditch preview, with the Holyhead Puddlemore game and the Kenmare Montrose game. He was hoping for very low scoring on the part of the Harpies, who were the unfortunate team this week to get a double header on the weekend. Well, not unfortunate for those going to watch games. Having the number one team play twice on the weekend always meant good games to hear about. Somehow the schedule managed to do that more often than not. Of course the schedule always seemed to be in flux.

Neville turned the page to see the Business section. On Sunday it was more advertisements than anything else. There was a sale on student cauldrons in Diagon Alley. It might be wise to stock up now. He went through them like the candy bowl in the Common Room.

Sunday fashion was quite different than usual, on page seven. It seemed that the Prophet had discovered muggle fashion, or at least the Royal Family's fashion. Neville didn't know much about fashion at all, but he was petty sure that the Queen and the Queen Mother were not likely to be the female fashion symbols.

Over on Page Eight was a rather fascinating article on charming fields to conceal them from muggles. It seemed that one of the more common charms had been discovered to have a rather unfortunate effect on a whole host of food. The Mirrored Production Charm, which was a variant of the Confundance Charm, was reducing male fertility.

"Gran, are we using the Mirrored Production Charm in our fields?" Neville asked, not recalling it on the list when he'd been told to look at them.

"That new finagled thing? Wards are much more durable, and we've never planted anything needing protection out of our lands," his grandmother replied.

"Good," Neville replied, looking at the packed section. It was the most important section for a Longbottom. Not only did the Longbottom farms produce a significant percentage of the British Wizarding food and potions ingredient supply, they represented Lincolnshire, which produced fifteen percent of the British Wizarding food supply. That being said, the articles were a bit dry today. Neville did find a tip that might help him with pests in the greenhouse.

Page Nine was almost entirely filled with legal notices. He figured that Harry was going to end up strangling Hermione. He'd delegated her the task of finding a place and setting the time for his county's biannual grievance meeting, where wizards of the county could meet their representative on the Wizengamot and present to them issues they needed attended to. Hermione had scheduled it for July 29th, and the announcement said that birthday cake would be served. That was code enough for Neville to infer that there was a party afterwards.

There was also a notice from her Majesty the Queen. Neville had never seen a notice from the Queen. For some reason he felt compelled to read it outloud.

"Elizabeth the Second, Queen of Great Britain, Ireland, and the Dominions Beyond the Seas, Defender of Faith, Lord of all that is Magical there in.

"To all whom these presents shall come or whom the same way in any way concern,

"Greeting, to our most loyal Director of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones.

"A proclamation:

"Whereas Tom Marvolo Riddle, sometimes known as Lord Voldemort or the Dark Lord, and his followers, sometimes known as Death Eaters or Knights of Walpurgis, have been in open rebellion against Us and Our Government,

"And whereas the same have attempted to infiltrate Our Government, Our Armed Forces and Our Ministries,

"And whereas the same have interfered with oaths of loyalty and service taken unto Our Crown and slain Our Subjects without just cause,

"Now Know You that We, by and with the advice of Our Minister for Magic, do by this Our Proclamation, effective at dawn on the third day of July, declare our intentions that Tom Mavolo Riddle and his marked followers are to be deprived of all rank, privilege and offices in Our Realm.

"Of All Which Our Loving Subjects and all others whom these Presents may concern are hereby required to take notice and to govern themselves accordingly.

"In Testimony Whereof, We have caused this Our Proclamation to be published and the Great Seal of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland to be hereunto affixed.

"Witnessed:

H.R.H Prince Edward, Royal Wizard

H.R.H the Countess Snowdon, Royal Wizard (retired)

Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic

"At our palace at Buckingham, in our City of London, this first day of July, during the forty-third year of our reign.

"Published to the Prophet by command

"Ambrosia Caperson, Royal Registrar for the Ministry of Magic."

Neville's grandmother looked up at him. "A royal proclaimation," she remarked, dryly. "Someone still remembered the charms at the Prophet. I'm impressed."

Neville grumbled a bit and turned the page. The back page of the Prophet on Sunday was the crossword, every copy being magically different. Neville knew better than to touch the crossword and handed over the paper to his grandmother. If he was really lucky he thought he might be able to sneak back in bed for another hour's nap.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>_

_The muse is in this time line now. Given the snow outside, I suspect she's about to switch again._


	6. Monday July Third Edition

_**Author's Note:**_

_I'm starting to get caught up between this and _Honor to Serve_. One or two more chapters of this story will be required before I can return to that story._

**Neville Reads the Prophet 6**

_Covering through Chapter 6 of Honor to Serve, being the edition of Monday July Third._

Neville barely had time to grab a scone and his copy of the Daily Prophet, Monday, as he headed out the door. It was all Hannah's fault, but Neville wasn't going to complain. She'd left just before midnight, her good night kiss, coupled with the many kisses she'd favored Neville with during the long Puddlemore Holyhead Quidditch game were still evident in Neville's smile and unstoppable happy demeanor. Even his Gran tossing him into a cold shower that morning hadn't cleared that up.

As he flooed into the Ministry of Magic, into the busy Monday Morning traffic in the atrium, he barely avoided two stern-faced royal guardsmen marching towards the Minister's Office. Neville took the left, where they took the right towards that office. Another left brought him into the side corridor that housed Wizengamot Offices fifty though fifty-six. Fifty was Gaefyddin, Dumbledore's, and was still dark. Not so, however, with the only other filled office in the corridor, Surrey.

"Good morning, Hermoine," Neville said, noticing that moving his mornings from the Great Hall to the Ministry didn't really change much. Hermione had a book propped in front of her, and was furiously taking notes. The only real difference was that she had a can labeled "V8" in front of her instead of a tall glass of pumpkin juice to go with her scones. He received a mumbled reply before he settled in at a nearby desk, and opened his paper.

"Minister Fired: Queen lost confidence in Fudge," blared the headline. Neville took a deep breath, before diving into the rather short article below the headline. The Queen had apparently grown increasingly frustrated with Fudge. He'd stormed out of Buckingham Palace Saturday Night, and apparently had to be retrieved by the Royal Wizard Sunday Afternoon. That explained the Royal Gaurdsmen who had passed Neville in the hall. They were probably on their way to relieve those that had been posted at the Minister's Office when the Queen had removed the Minister. The large picture was of Fudge being escorted out of Buckingham Palace, all the way to the gates.

Below the fold was an eyewitness account of the hanging of Lucius Malfoy, Walden Macnair, and Gregory Goyle V, with an accompanying picture of their bodies swinging from the gallows. That picture was not going to help the Prophet's recent "your family's paper" campaign, Neville mused.

Neville heard the sound of a glass hitting the desk, and looked up. One of the Hufflepuff second years had just placed a glass of orange juice beside his paper, just like the elves did last year. He smiled his thanks, and looked around the room. There were three of the office's pages, denoted by the fact that they were wearing their house ties over the white school shirt. A table with orange juice and scones had been set up just behind the reception desk. Ginny was just coming in the door. He waved to acknowledge her entry before returning to the paper, opening it up to the second page.

The weather was going to be excellent today, sunny with a high around 32°C, but overnight the clouds were going to roll in, with rain, heavy at times, increasing throughout the next day. Too bad that his morning would be taken up with Wizengamot things.

The lower half of page two was as usual Czarina Redeemer's Buys and Sells, unusually long for her. Elphias Doge, buy; Montgomery Riverwald, buy. Neville figured that they'd put their names in the ring again. Pius Thickness, sell. The new leader of the Dark Faction had big shoes to fill, and from what Neville knew, Thickness wasn't up to it. Dolores Umbridge, sell, sell. Umbridge had been Fudge's chief henchwoman, and Neville figured that she had to have been doing something wrong. Amelia Bones, buy. Neville figured she was going to let her name be put in the ring. Albus Dumbledore, hold. Dumbledore would turn it down again. Harry Potter, buy; Rulfus Scrimgeour, buy. The Chief Auror was getting a bit more political lately. Neville wasn't sure that was a good thing. Draco Malfoy, sell. It would be interesting how Malfoy would fit in to the Wizengamot latter. Chudley Cannons, buy. Neville never pictured Redeemer as a fan. Percy Weasley, buy. And Percy's presence was a bit confounding. Her Majesty, the Queen, buy; The Countess Snowdon, buy. His Most Catholic Majesty, buy. That trio of royality was unexpected.

"Hermione, who is his Most Catholic Majesty?" Neville asked.

"King Juan-Carlos of Spain," Hermione replied. "Why?"

"Czarina Redeemer placed a buy on him," Neville said. "Have you heard of anything happening in Spain?"

"Not that I can think of," Hermione said. "I'll check the Times when I'm done with these evaluations. Harry's going to need to know about the contenders for Minister, if he's going to vote properly. Will you look over them as I finish them?"

"As soon as I finish the Prophet," Neville replied, as he turned to page three, the International Section.

The headline on that page was "Spanish King Honors First Class." A picture of King Juan-Carlos with three dozen young wizards dressed in gold and scarlet robes was below the picture. According to the article, the King had reestablished Spain's magical school, with it's first class of seventh years finishing their courses a few weeks ago at the La Granja de San Ildefonso, and the King had invited the class for a dinner at San Lorenzo de El Escorial. The entertainment was apparently lavish, and the King had announced his intentions to repeat the dinner yearly.

One student interviewed said that "you haven't really finished at La Granja until the King says you have." The King had also expressed a desire that his students not get involved with the Dark Lord in Britain. There were several pictures at the bottom of the article. One showed the two top students in academics, another the top scorers in each class. Then there was those that had been scouted for Quidditch, and finally the King with a student named Maria Sofia Emillia Carmen Zurita y Borbon. Neville had no idea why that picture was there, but he agreed with Redeemer now about the buy on the King.

The leaning tower of Pisa had apparently reappeared, in someplace called Rockefeller Plaza, and this time the wizards responsible had apparently been caught. The wizards were described as a loosely organized gang of wizarding youths. No names were listed.

Neville turned the page. Page Four was the Wizengamot Coverage, as usual. Today it looked like it was an analysis of likely candidates for Minister. It started with an article by Czarina Redeemer, which Neville read carefully.

'In the muggle world, when a new Pope is chosen, it is often said that if a cardinal enters the conclave a Pope, he exits a cardinal. Speculation in a wide open field for an unexpected opening is often an exercise in futility. There are currently three vacant hereditary seats, one of which, Wiltshire, is likely to be filled by special permission by it's heir, Draco Malfoy, today. Coupled with the two merit seats, ably filled by Chief Warlock Dumbledore and the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, there are forty-nine members voting.

'Thrity-three votes will be required to be elected, and the new minister must be a member of the Wizengamot or an existing Director or Acting Director of a Ministry Department. It is interesting that the Queen has ordered the full reinstatement of Percy Weasley as Acting Director of the Department of International Cooperation, thus making the nineteen-year-old from Devon who recently signed a contract as seeker for the Puddlemore United the third youngest possible candidate.

'We say third youngest, because Harry James Potter, still short of his own fifteenth birthday holds a seat in his own right, and his reported Hogwarts rival, Draco Malfoy is not much older. We find it unlikely that any of these three will be nominated, however. Most of our likely choices are currently involved in the Ministry, or have long been considered candidate. It is unlikely that the two oldest members, Edwin Marchbanks and Albus Dumbledore will be nominated, though for different reasons. Marchbanks' health is declining, and Dumbledore has once again let it be known that he has too many jobs as it is.'

Neville paused to take a sip of his orange juice and a bite of a scone that had mysteriously appeared at his desk. "Hermione, better make sure you prepare one on Harry, and that he knows he can and should refuse. Someone's going to nominate him."

"Let me guess, Malfoy will," Hermione said.

"It's about as likely as the return of Merlin, but you know Harry. If it hasn't happened in a millennium, it will happen to him," Neville said.

"And probably drag the rest of us into it," Hermione said, the end of her quill tickling her chin. "Anyone else you recommend that I include?"

"Let me finish the Prophet's articles first," Neville said, then noticing that Ginny had settled into her seat at the reception desk, he continued. "Oh, Ginny, what can I expect from Ron due to Saturday's game?"

"I hope you like orange," Ginny said.

The coverage of all the likely candidates for Minister of Magic had pushed Sports to page six. Unusually, the first article wasn't about a game that had just been completed, but about the new management of the Pride of Portree and the day's first game under the new ownership.

It seemed that while under the ownership of the crown, the Pride of Portree was being run by the Duke of Rothesay. The Duke believed that once the injury list was cleared, Portree had a real chance. Rothesay also noted that his youngest brother was of the opinion that it was more likely that Chudley would win the league than Portree having a winning season this year.

The Duke of Rothesay said that he was reopening the pitch on Isay on the Isle of Skye for some open to the public practices, and was looking in to the possibility of the pitch being used for games instead of sharing the Rannoch Moor Stadium with the Montrose Magpies. The Isay pitch was a little on the small side, and hadn't been used for public games since the 1960s, mainly due to transportation issues to the deserted island. It was said to be a good pitch though.

At the bottom of the article was a picture of the Duke, that seemed to be a bit familiar to him. The Duke was standing outside a building identified as Balmoral Castle, dressed in highland attire. Neville noticed that it was rather unusually credited as "conversion from BBC News Video." Neville found that strange.

He skimmed the articles on the prior day's games, to make sure he knew the key facts of the games. His mind was more on politics. As he turned the paper over to look at Business, he heard Ron enter.

"Morning 'moine, Neville," Ron greeted. From Ginny's comment, Neville had expected a totally orange dressed obsessed Chudley Cannon's fan. However, it appeared that his mother must have gotten a hold of him. The normally somewhat sloppily dressed Gryffindor was actually dressed better than most of those in the office. It appeared that he'd received a hair cut since he'd gotten home. He was wearing a somewhat faded dark gray jacket over his one orange item, a button down shirt.

"You call that orange, Ginny?" Neville asked.

"Mum made me change," Ron said as he snared a scone from the table. "Said that I couldn't go to the Wizengamot looking like an shiny orange sickle. You owe me a sickle, Neville."

Neville flipped Ron a sickle, "any devoted Cannons fan deserves that, at least." He turned towards Hermione. "Who's the Duke of Rothesay?"

"Prince Charles."

"I thought he his title was the Prince of Wales," Neville said, before taking another sip of orange juice. Ron poured himself a glass.

"That's just one of his titles," Hermione replied, looking up and placing the end of her pen on her chin. "In Scotland he's known as the Duke of Rothesay. He's also the Duke of Cornwall, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, Prince and Great Steward of Scotland ... and I won't get into the orders of this and that. I probably missed a title or two. The Royal Family seems to collect them."

"I met him once," Ron interrupted. "Dad brought me with him to Highgrove House, the summer before I started at Hogwarts. There was a gnome infestation and a couple of cursed objects that needed to be handled. I didn't know who he was until Percy told me, though. You know he's a Cannons fan too?"

Neville shook his head and returned to the paper. The business section announced a partnership between the Prophet and the British Broadcasting Corporation for increased and enhanced coverage of the Royal Family and the muggle world. A charm had been recently developed that would covert segments of something called video which was apparently stored on a type of tape called VHS to wizarding pictures. Most of the article went right over Neville's head. The implications of a wizarding/muggle corporate relationship, though, that was staggering.

With the Statute of Secrecy, there were not many permissible relationships across the divide. What ones there were, were generally either personal or governmental. Neville couldn't see any sign of that here. He thought it was important, though. He'd have to talk to his gran about it. Maybe she'd know more.

He turned the page. Fashion had been left out of the day's edition, but there was a brief farm section, detailing a recent development of a new supplement for growing mandrakes. Neville didn't think much of it, as it seemed rather similar to one known to reduce potency, and didn't mention if the new supplement had fixed that issue.

The legal notices were filled by notices of where the Forward of Grievance Meetings were scheduled for. There wasn't a notice for Surrey, or Wiltshire for that matter. Neville turned over to the back page, while considering if he should see what was going on in that office. It might be interesting.

The back page was an advertizement for Wizard Rail, touting their Quidditch Stadium service. It included a full schedule of the day's service.

Finishing the paper, Neville handed the paper over to Hermione. "I need to stop by Gran's office for a moment. I'll be back in an hour or so."


	7. Tuesday July Fourth Edition

**Neville Reads the Prophet 7**

_Covering through Chapter 8 of Honor to Serve, being the edition of Tuesday July Forth._

Neville had been up for over three hours when he finally got to read the morning's Daily Prophet. He'd been woken up at five thirty antemeridian by the beeping coin that Hermione had created for the purpose of alerting Harry's staff. It was a master of charm-work, but being woken up that early, well, Neville was still considering what he should do to Hermione. He was leaning towards defenestration, a favored choice among the Longbottom Family.

He'd purchased a copy at the Leaky Caldron, where he and his friends had gone with the cleared Sirus Black. That was going to be a headline tomorrow, Neville was sure. Of course something could come up. He would have never predicted the headlines blaring across the top of page one the day before.

Neville settled in to his personal office at the Wizengamot. His gran had decided that it was time he have a room of his own in the Lincolnshire Offices that would be his own upon his eighteenth birthday. He did not anticipate that happening earlier, like it happened to Harry and Draco. Of course, when it did, assuming that it wasn't due to her death, his Gran would get a merit seat automatically due to her long service as Neville's proxy.

It was his office, so Neville felt free to prop his feet up on his desk and lean back in his chair.

"Neville, sit up properly." Gran had charmed his chair. This was his office, she wasn't supposed to do that. Still, he sat up properly, and unrolled his copy of the Prophet.

"Queen Presides Over Wizengamot. Snowdon, the Dark Lords' Bane Elected Minister." The headlines filled the top of the page. There was a picture of the Queen bestowing the chain of office on her sister. The chain had been used mostly ceremonially, but Neville had noticed that the Minister had still been wearing it a few hours ago.

The primary article was a rather factual account starting with of the final round of voting, coupled with a list of those who had accepted nomination. It also described the new Minister Snowdon's address before the Wizengamot. It had been a rather stirring one. Neville had listened to it up in the heir's gallery. Hermione had been his guest, and she said that the new minister had liberally cribbed from some guy named Churchill.

The full speech was in a side bar.

"The choice today was a choice between war and dishonor. Indeed today, I feel confident that there is still dishonor among us, those that still serve the Dark Lord we must oppose. I say today to the gathered Wizengamot, to those seated on its floor, to those gathered in its galleries, to those listening in their homes, I do not come here promising that I have an easy solution, one that will solve the our ills in a single blow.

"I come today, to promise, as another great Englishman promised, that I have nothing more to offer than blood, toil, tears, and sweat. And as he promised, my policy, is to wage war, by sea, by land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us: to wage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is my policy, that is my promise.

"As for the Wizengamot, I promise that neither the sudden shock of battle nor the long-drawn trails of vigilance and exertion shall wear us down. Give us the tools and we will finish the job, just like that great Englishman, Churchill, did.

"I leave you with one more quote of that man, pulled from the depths of my memory, and a charge, a charge that man made in 1940 to our nation under siege. It is a charge that I hope that the Witches and Wizards of Britain shall live up to just like the people of Britain did back then. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will say, 'This was our finest hour.'"

Neville had heard one line after that, intended for the Queen, no doubt. It was said in somewhat of a irreverent, if not downright disrespectful tone. "How was that for improvising, your Majesty?" The Queen had only smiled in reply, a smile, however, that promised more, later, and probably not all good.

At the bottom was an article on the Countess Snowdon. It covered from when as a young witch, not even having taken her OWLs, took over the job of Royal Wizard and took on the job of defeating Dark Lords throughout the world. The list of Dark Lords whose reign she was credited with ending was impressive ... and apparently culled from the comic books that she starred in.

Finally in the lower right corner was a picture of a man, dressed in a full suit, with a bow tie and bowler hat. The rotund man's right hand was raised, two fingers, upright, split into a 'V' sign. It moved, the man looking from side to side. It was labeled simply, Winston Churchill (1874-1965). No other explanation accompanied it.

Neville looked at the man. His smile, his confidence, somehow leached out of the paper to Neville. He'd heard the words from Minister Snowdon, and Hermione had told him which ones were from the man she called Britain's greatest wartime Prime Minister. He imagined the voice that would come from such a man. He imagined the strong tone as the man had addressed the House of Commons. "I have nothing more to offer than blood, toil, tears, and sweat," he'd said.

Neville knew what Voldemort could do. He couldn't say the name out loud, but he was determined to at least not hide the name in his thoughts. Neville had seen what his followers could do. He saw it ever time he had visited his parents. He'd seen the aftermath of what Voldemort could do. He saw it in the body of Cedric, bought home to his parents by the courage of his friend Harry. He'd seen it in the wreckage that once had been Harry's parent's home at Godric's Hollow. He saw it in the nightmares that troubled his friend as Voldemort's return had grown nearer in the previous year.

He'd seen it in the many orphans, only able to attend Hogworts at the sufferance of one of the great scholarship funds. He'd seen it in the haunted eyes of his Gran's friends and acquaintances when the return had come up during their visits since he had returned home. He'd seen it the scared bodies of the aurors that were invited for Boxing Day Dinner ever year that he could remember.

Neville turned the page.

The weather was not looking good. It was supposed to rain for the whole day, and the next. In fact it looked like the whole first full week of July was going to be a very gloomy one. There was a Flash Flood Watch for "Diagon Ally and environs." Neville crossed out his planned trip to pick up a new mandrake for his private greenhouse. It was not recommended to transport mandrake in the rain, and risk the dirt washing off the root.

The lower half of the page was Czarina Redeemer's Buys and Sells as usual. The Countess Snowdon was a buy, of course, and Fudge a sell. Pius Thickness, sell. Dolores Umbridge, sell. The former staff of the member from Wiltshire, sell. Neville had witnessed Baron Amesbury firing most of them. Baron Amesbury, buy. It was going to take some getting used to calling Draco Malfoy, Amesbury. The Prince of Wales, buy. Percy Weasley, buy. Augusta Longbottom, buy. Algernon Longbottom, sell. What had Uncle Algie done now? Neville wondered. Harry Potter, buy.

Severus Snape, sell. Minerva McGonagall, buy. Given that there was a meeting of the education committee, that was hardly unexpected. Neville couldn't see Snape getting out of that committee meeting. Perhaps it would be wise to make sure that Mal ... Amesbury got a copy of Hermione's briefing for Harry.

He looked over to page three. It seemed that the young wizards who had been arrested for moving landmarks around had disappeared, along with Riker's Island. A new ambassador from Russia with a magical portfolio had been accredited to the Court of Saint James. The Prophet didn't seem to have much else to say in International News.

The door to Neville's office opened, and his Gran entered, carrying a box. "Neville, dear, I have brought you some supplies," she said. She pulled the first item out of the box, a polished oak block with deep black letters on it, reading, 'Neville Franklin Longbottom.' It was just like the one on his father's desk at home. Neville had often sat in the chair in front of his father's desk. In someways, sitting there made him feel more close to his father than any visit to Saint Mungo's had ever done. Most summers, since he wasn't allowed to use it, Neville would reverently place the wand he had inherited from his father on the slightly cupped surface on top of his father's own name plate, 'Franklin Benedict Longbottom.'

Neville placed the wand above his own name plate for the first time. As he did so, he heard a sniffle from his Gran. He looked up to discover tears going down her face. "Gran?"

"Oh, Neville, you're growing up so fast," Gran replied in a tone he'd never quite heard from his stern guardian.

Neville found himself going around his desk to wrap his Gran into a hug. As he did so, he realized for the first time that he was only a few inches short of his Gran's height. He kept up the hug until she pulled away, a bit.

Gran began pulling the rest of the stuff for his desk out of the box. "I arranged for the same set as I did for your father," she said. "Save that apparently they do not make the crimson shade that your father preferred for his accessories."

"That's okay, Gran," Neville said, looking over the ink well, parchment box, and quills that she was arranging on his desk. He liked the scarlet hue.

"There," Gran said, looking at the desk. Then she turned to Neville. "I understand that your friend, the Member from Wiltshire, has fired all of his staff. That means the Education committee is now short a Sargent-at-arms to handle the introductions. As Wiltshire is staff-less, the next ranking member is your friend, the Member from Surrey, being a Knight of the Realm."

"Harry, call him Harry," Neville said. "He just wants to be Harry."

"Harry then," Gran said, her tone saying that she didn't really approve of that form of address. "Please see who he has appointed as his Sargent-at-arms. Should he not have someone by this afternoon, I'm afraid I shall have to ask the Member from Hampshire for hers, and I just can't stand his squeaky voice."

"I'll ask Harry as soon as I finish reading the Prophet," Neville said.

"Very well," Gran nodded her approval before leaving.

Neville turned back to page four. He was quite surprised that aside from a continuation of one of the front page articles, there were no additional articles on Minister Snowdon. Instead the first article was about the Wizengamot' s reaction to the execution of the three traitors who had been discovered at the opening of the summer session. It began with a statement:

"The Honorable Member from Surrey, having witnessed the late Lucius Malfoy's trial, believes justice has been done, sending Lucius Malfoy to his well deserved final reward in Hell."

It was immediately followed by another statement that Neville found quite chilling, even though he'd heard it composed the day before:

"The Lord Draco, Baron Amesbury, wishes to let to be known that the late prior holder of the Wiltshire Wizengamot has been stricken from the roles of his house. The Baron shall not recognize any bonds, agreements, or relations with the traitor. In addition, the Baron intends to see that all those engaged in activities with and like the traitor suffer a similar fate."

There was a sidebar on the arrests of the entire Wiltshire office staff. The lists of crimes were quite diverse and comprehensive.

There was a statement from the Office of His Highness, the Prince of Wales:

"His Royal Highness was pleased to witness the execution of three noted traitors known as Death Eaters. He stands, with his brothers and sister, ready to judge any further members of the Wizengamot who are members of the said organization. They should not expect a lessor punishment before his court."

There was also an article on the general reaction in Diagon Alley to the execution. Madam Mulkin had few good words for the traitors, which was to be expected. They'd apparently caught the comic book writer for the Snowdon comics walking the alley, as Lee Bet Mountbatten was quoted, "Good riddance."

They'd caught Ron's mum in the alley too, and she had been quite expressive. Neville was sure that the paragraph wasn't all that Mrs. Weasley had said. There was apparently quite a family grudge against the late Malfoy. Neville had long known that Ron didn't like Lucius Malfoy, and asking Ginny her opinion of the man was likely to result in scorched ears.

Neville looked over at the Sports section, hoping that there would be a bit of release.

Portree was under new management, that of the Duke of Rothesay, but that had been only the case for the weekend, so it was unlikely that any real turn around could have started. So it was quite expected that they'd lost, though only by the snitch. 200-50 was actually a rather respectable score, given the circumstances.

Then there was the preview of the Puddlermere vs Chudley game. Neville knew that if he had lunch with Ron, he'd hear all about Chudley's chances. Neville wasn't quite sure how Chudley had managed to assemble it's current chaser team. There was a profile on the three, all of which were new to the team this year.

Sanpurananzi Tinker was apparently a Romani, and had the interesting habit of playing barefoot. She'd had it written into her contract. When asked why, she only shrugged and said, "Carl does backflips when he wins, I play barefoot. Why shouldn't it be in my contract, it's in his." Standing at just four foot eight, she had been hired as a Seeker for the Vratsa Vultures. She'd been replaced by Krum, and ended up in England, as a Chaser instead, which apparently was the position she really wanted to play.

How Christopher Evers ended up playing for Chudley was perhaps the strangest story in the history of try outs. Evers was sixty-eight years old, and a retired priest. He'd been at the tryouts because his great-niece had been told to be at the Chudley Open, the annual event when the coaches let anyone try out, with the best playing a game against the prior year's starters. The vicarage where he'd retired to happened to be on the edge of the moor where Chudley's games were played. So he'd flown alongside his great-niece, and then assisted in her warm up. His feeding the Quaffle to her caught the eye of the Chaser's Coach, an old Chaser who had actually been on the last league winning team from Chudley, and been told to join the scrum along with his niece. They offered him a contract the next day.

It would have been sad, had Lucy Chance not managed to get her spot on the Cannons. True, she'd been offered a reserve contract the same day as her great-uncle had been gifted with a starting one. It also would have been a shame, as Little Lucy, a half inch shorter than Tinker, had a real gift for placing the Quaffle just where it needed to be. She'd been put in for the first time with Tinker and Evers in an exhibition game against the Nantucket Patriots in Nantucket. After a particularly massive scoring run, the Nantucket announcer had said the fateful words:

"These are the saddest of possible words  
>'Tinker to Evers to Chance'<br>trio of cannons, fleeter than birds  
>Tinker and Evers and Chance<br>Ruthlessly pricking our patriotic bubble  
>Making a giant rout on the double<br>Words that are heavy with nothing but trouble  
>'Tinker to Evers to Chance.'"<p>

The announcer had credited it to a poem about another sport, called baseball, but to the Cannons that didn't matter. They had a trio of chasers who had run up the score so high that they won by two thousand. Their Saturday game, the first time the trio had started on English soil, was won 1520 to 120, as the Cannon's first win against the number one ranked team in a decade. Coupled with a new keeper, who had come very close to shutting Appleby out, only allowing scoring in the last ten minutes of the three hour long game, the columnist previewing the game expected a very good game.

There was a sidebar on what baseball was. Neville thought it looked to be a very boring game.

He turned over the page to Business. It seemed that Zonko's rumored to be about to go under. There was a lot of speculation as to when, and who would benefit from it. Zonko's apparently had a lot of unused assets. There was also some discussion about a rise in prices for toad eyes. If it wasn't for the fact that Trevor was a gift from his great-uncle, Neville would have sold him for parts. If he had his way, he would have bought an owl like Harry's Hedwig to take to Hogwarts.

Looking over to page seven, Neville decided that he had no idea what made fashion. Blaze orange blazers? What were those designers thinking? Neville barely skimmed the page, turning over to the Farm section

Someone had apparently managed to grow mariphasa lupina lumina at a low altitude. There were some ancient potions that used the plant. It was hoped that there would soon be enough to revive a few of them. The demand had nearly wiped out the plant in Tibet, until restrictions were imposed by the magical government of Tibet.

In legal notices on the next page, there was a notice from the Wiltshire Wizengamot offices about being closed until further notices. Baron Amesbury apparently could be reached at the Surrey offices, and the Lincolnshire offices would be handling constitute services.

Finally on the back page there was a full page advertisement from the Diagon Alley Merchant Association, congratulating Ollivander on sixty years working in the Alley. It included a picture of the young Garrick Ollivander, take the day he sold his first wand. Neville couldn't believe that Ollivander had ever been that young.

Neville folded up the paper and put it aside. Looking around his new office, he figured that he needed a few pictures. Since Ginny had found the portraits that graced the Surrey offices, he decide to head back to collect her for a scavenging run thought the Wizengamot store rooms.

Standing up, he straightened his robes, and headed out of his office. His gran was just exiting her office at the same time. "I'll be back before lunch, Gran. The Surrey offices will know where to find me."


End file.
